Post #1175488

2026-04-15 23:56 UTC

@Cognessence@social.linux.pizza @thoker@social.cologne I love it when artists re-record songs. To me, what makes a song great is in part its repeatability and its flexibility. Meaning if a song is good, it can exist in many incarnations. I wonder if the tendency to just do one version of every song and then move on has to do more with the way the record industry works (er, worked) than anything.

Replies (2)

@Cognessence@social.linux.pizza 2026-04-16 00:08

@alisynthesis@io.waxandleather.com @thoker@social.cologne @alisynthesis I do too! And very much appreciate what you're saying, especially as I've been finding much fruit in letting go of ownership and judgement, in a sense; seeing making music as drawing from the sonic flux, and contributing back to the stream. "Music is always happening; and I get to part of it." This would imply mutability, repeatability and flexibility in terms of many version, iterations, too. :) Songs often seem to possess a kind of structural resilience, too: they can survive changes of arrangement, tempo, instrumentation, voice, even historical context, and still remain recognisable. I agree with you re the industry; it both commercialised music and ontologically fixed it. One recording became *the* song. It is quite strange when you think about it, isn't it? Once the recording becomes the commodity, it can begin to eclipse the living thing as such. Up against most traditions, where variation was not deviation but the norm; music living through reiteration, reinterpretation, and circumstance. Sometimes a later version can even disclose meanings that were latent, and it becomes less a replacement than a commentary across time. Having said that, and despite me rambling on here, it isn't something I've done. You've inspired me to change that!

Open ##1175487
@Cognessence@social.linux.pizza 2026-04-16 00:13

@alisynthesis@io.waxandleather.com @thoker@social.cologne @alisynthesis I do too! And very much appreciate what you're saying, especially as I've been finding much fruit in letting go of ownership and judgement, in a sense; seeing making music as drawing from the sonic flux, and contributing back to the stream. "Music is always happening; and I get to part of it." This would imply mutability, repeatability and flexibility in terms of many versions and iterations, too. :) Songs often seem to possess a kind of structural resilience: they can survive changes of arrangement, tempo, instrumentation, voice, even historical context, and still remain recognisably carriers of something specific. I agree with you re the industry; it both commercialised music and ontologically fixed it. One recording became *the* song. It is quite strange when you think about it, isn't it? Once the recording becomes the commodity, it can begin to eclipse the living thing as such. Up against most traditions, where variation was not deviation but the norm; music living through reiteration, reinterpretation, and circumstance! Sometimes a later version can even disclose meanings that were latent, and it becomes less a replacement than a commentary across time. Having said that, and despite me rambling on here, it isn't something I've done much. You've inspired me to change that!

Open ##1175549